Ephemeral
by WrenWinterSong
Summary: "I wouldn't call you a broken soul." "That's because you're broken as well." "Maybe that's why we fit so well together." A WolfStar story.


**Author's Note:** This story was written for the September One-Shot Exchange over on the HPFC forum. It is written for NeonDomino, who gave me a lot of challenging pairings and prompts. The pairing I chose was Sirius and Remus, genre romance (tried to make it as fluffy as possible despite my inability to not write angst), and prompts: (word) ephemeral and (song) 'I Will Wait' by Mumford and Sons. Enjoy!

* * *

 _._

 _Well I came home_

 _Like a stone_

 _And I fell heavy into your arms_

 _._

He had taken many lives. In the past year, Sirius suspected he had taken a few even without using the most unforgivable curse. Last week, he and James had collapsed a building on top of a Death Eater; last month, he and James had sent explosive spells towards a bridge that took down a whole lot of them; and just yesterday, he and James had crashed a police car into a pair of them. Sirius was not a stranger to the casualties of war, especially not those on the other side of enemy lines.

By the time he heard the news, he had practically forgotten he had family on the other side.

"It is all right to feel conflicted," Dumbledore said, seated behind a desk in Edgar Bones' library in a familiar image of Sirius's school days. He hadn't been called to this office for some school boy incident this time, though. Perhaps out of habit, Sirius had been expecting a scolding about the aforementioned police car incident, but instead, he was faced with the news that both his father and brother were dead.

"Why would I feel conflicted?" Sirius said, glaring at the piles of parchment on the desk. "Two more Death Eaters are dead. We should celebrate." He snarled out this last word before pushing himself from his chair and storming out of the room. His pace only sped up as he left the Bones' house and walked towards the house he shared with James, Lily, and Remus. Sharing a place took the edge off the guilt both Sirius and Remus had for relying on James for finical support. Sirius supposed he could pay James back now. His father couldn't withhold his inheritance any longer.

When he reached the house, which was cramped into a line of identical homes and reminded Sirius of his childhood home on Grimmauld Place, he noticed his bike was gone. Dammit, only James would have taken it without permission, probably on some joy ride with Lily. Sure, Sirius had told James he could take it out whenever after James totalled his own, but James really had the shittiest timing. The only thing Sirius wanted right then as a reckless ride through London.

Sirius shoved the front door open, kicking it closed as he walked through. Remus glanced up from the _Daily Prophet_ in his lap. "I take it Dumbledore talked to you," he said, remaining in his armchair.

Sirius ignored Remus and stormed to his bedroom at the back of the house, slamming the door behind him.

Remus approached the bedroom door, only hearing a faint scuffling that could either have been Sirius crying or tossing and shoving his belongings in anger. Remus lifted his hand to knock, then thought better of it. Asking for permission would only get him a locked door. Instead, Remus turned the handle and opened the door to Sirius sitting on the edge of his bed, his forehead against his knees and fingers clawing through his dark hair.

Remus only took a single step inside before Sirius stood up, facing Remus with a murderous look. "What're you want?"

"Nothing," Remus said, thinking perhaps he should leave Sirius by himself for awhile, but then he remembered all those times he had pushed Sirius and James away at Hogwarts, telling them he wanted to be left alone. Sirius hadn't let Remus isolate himself then. Remus had to repay the favour.

He took a step forward and put a hand on Sirius' shoulder, wishing he knew what to say to make this better. James and Sirius were the huggers, strolling through Hogwarts with their arms around each others' shoulders and shoving the other at every given opportunity. Remus kept his hands to himself, choosing words over physicality, but he had nothing to say this time.

Sirius crumbled at the contact, falling to the ground as if Remus' hand was too heavy to bear. Remus snatched his hand back in panic. What had he done? He meant to comfort Sirius, not send him to the ground. Then Sirius reached around Remus's waist, clinging to him as he buried his head into Remus' stomach.

For a moment, Remus stood frozen with his hands hovering above Sirius, not knowing what to do. He had never been held with such strength by anyone before, and it amazed him how Sirius could hold on so tightly to a monster like him.

"Why do I care? Why do I care?" Sirius said between sobs, his breath hitching before he spoke each time.

Remus put his hand back on Sirius' shoulder, the other patting his thick, dishevelled hair. He had no answer besides that touch.

 _._

 _These days of dust_

 _Which we've known_

 _Will blow away with this new sun_

 _._

Weddings possess a powerful magic, one that makes everyone forget, even for one day, what the world is like beyond the walls of the church.

James and Lily had a small but jubilant event. Everyone in the Order of the Phoenix left their worries at the door and gathered in the ancient church that James' parents and grandparents and great-grandparents and who knows how many generations before that had been married in. The space was small but rose up several stories into a massive cathedral. Everything was painted a perfect white, even the bannisters that crossed high in the steeple, keeping the walls from caving in.

Despite being forced into dress robes, Sirius felt happy. The past couple of months had been difficult. Sirius had always been a pariah in his family, but with very little family left, he had lost himself. His whole identity had built around his disgust for his family and their beliefs, but now only his mother remained in Grimmauld Place, alone. He almost felt sorry for her.

It wasn't just his mother that hung over his head, it was the money too. If his father could have foreseen his own death, he would have found some way to make sure Sirius never received a knut of the fortune, but Orion Black was arrogant enough not to believe he would pass so young, or that his favourite son would die days afterwards. The inheritance—that had been denied to Sirius for years as his father constantly increased the age he should receive it—had doubled with his part of his father's own fortune and his brother's inheritance. He was nearly as rich as James now.

Sirius had thought about buying his own place, finally getting out of James' hair, but where would that leave Remus? In a house that had felt so small with four people but now felt rather large with only the two of them and would feel even bigger with just Remus? No, Sirius couldn't do that to him.

Things had changed so much since James and Lily moved out. James had always been Sirius' best mate, no one ever argued that, and Remus and Peter had been James' charity cases. Peter, with his squeaky voice and awkward manner, posed a challenge that James couldn't ignore: making the pitiful boy into a true Gryffindor, popularity and all. Then there was Remus, the boy with the scars who kept to himself and denied all of James' attempts at friendship. He posed an even bigger challenge than over-eager Peter. Really, Remus had no choice in the matter. When he tried to keep his distance, the three of them would hop on his bed or crowd his library table or surround him in the common room. Eventually, Remus accepted the friendship and stayed so grateful that he stuck around for seven years, even after they discovered his little furry problem.

The dynamics had changed, though. Now, instead of it being Sirius and James leading the misfits, it was Sirius and Remus sharing a house while James and Peter had gone on to separate lives: James with Lily and Peter with whatever he was doing nowadays. With only having the Order to worry about, both Sirius and Remus spent a lot of free time idle in the house. Well, Sirius sat idle while Remus sent out job applications or prepared for interviews or read any book he could find for cheap, that was when he wasn't sulking in his room. How long did it take to stop being so sensitive over the whole werewolf thing? Probably as much time as it took getting used to being ostracised from your own family.

They made quite a pair, a couple of gloomy outcasts, and it wasn't just the living together that made Sirius look at Remus differently. No, ever since he found out about his brother and father, Sirius could barely look at Remus for a second before remembering how he had cried against Remus' shirt while the latter brushed a hand through his hair. Sirius couldn't forget how—after he'd calmed down and stood like a man again—he had felt so cold without Remus close. He hugged that little werewolf again, muttering a 'thank you' and hoping when he let go this time that the emptiness would stay away. It didn't.

How had this happened? It wasn't that Sirius wasn't aware that he was attracted to men—a few secret trysts during his Hogwarts days had confirmed that—but he had never felt something like _this_ for a friend. He'd never felt something like this for _anyone_. He didn't want to just push Remus up against a wall and show him how easily a werewolf could be tamed; he had other urges too, urges to sweep his fringe from his forehead when it fell in eyes, to curse all those people who wouldn't give him a job, to slip into his bed in the middle of the night and hold him… just hold him.

It was insane. Sirius didn't even know which direction Remus swung. He wasn't exactly one to fancy _anyone_ , barely admitting how much he enjoyed the company of his friends let alone a lover. Sirius suspected Remus refused any type of romantic feelings for some stupid noble reason about dragging down his partner with him. Git.

He wasn't even at the church yet and all Sirius could do was think about him as he stood at the altar with James and Marlene. Where the hell was that mangy wolf?

The organ in the choir loft boomed alive as Lily appeared at the end of the aisle, her father at her side. Like everything else, she looked simple and elegant, her lace dress flowing around her with each step and only a little blue clip in her otherwise usual hair. Still, she had never looked more beautiful. Happiness and love really did make a person glow.

As the officiate began the ceremony, Sirius saw a shadow step through the back of the church and take a seat next to Moody, who had insisted on being the closest to the door. Remus caught Sirius' eye and gave a quick apologetic smile. Sirius winked back before turning to face the altar.

Oh, dear Merlin, he had _winked_.

 _._

 _But I'll kneel down_

 _Wait for now_

 _And I'll kneel down_

 _Know my ground_

 _._

Two months. It only took two months at this job for his secret to get out. Remus had only graduated from Hogwarts a year ago; how had he developed a reputation already?

Oh, right, his monthly disease had been discovered by one employer and tales of werewolves spread quickly. At this rate, he would have to leave England to find a job.

Not that he really enjoyed working for Puddlemere United, cleaning the dirty stands after games, but work was work and money was money. Remus needed to find a way to make a living. He couldn't live off of James' generosity forever. He didn't want to. He wanted to find a job, buy his own place, have his own vault at Gringotts. With almost no opportunities for a werewolf, Remus could sympathise with those that had followed You-Know-Who. If not for James, where would Remus be?

He didn't mean to slam the door against the wall when he entered the house—still refusing to think of this place as home—but apparently he had been angrier than he thought.

"Alright there, Moony?" Sirius asked from the kitchen, a half buttered piece of toast in his hand.

Seeing the casual tilt of his head only infuriated Remus more. Ever since graduation, Sirius and James had treated the war like a holiday, a gap year full of adventuring and duelling before they grew up. James, at least, had wizened up and settled down as a husband. Sirius, however, stood in the middle of the kitchen wearing a pair of lounge pants, no shirt, and buttering toast without a plate and spilling crumbs across the floor and counter. Remus couldn't even look at him.

He stormed through the hallway and shut his bedroom door with a snap, tossing his resignation letter into the ever-growing pile of ended and declined jobs next to his bed. On his nightstand sat the current _Daily Prophet_ , where Sirius must have set it only minutes ago. He had gotten into the habit after Remus had nervously asked to borrow Sirius' _Prophet_ a few times since he couldn't even afford that. Remus snatched the newspaper and tore it open to the job listings, scanning for anything that required no experience.

"Moony?" Sirius said from the other side of the door. The doorknob turned, and Sirius' head appeared in the gap of the door. "Something happen at work?"

"I was fired," Remus said, keeping his voice steady, "for the usual reason."

"Oh, yes, not everyone can appreciate your crude humour," Sirius said with a lopsided smile as he strolled into Remus' room and flopped onto the bed.

Remus was far from being in a joking mood and wished Sirius would take a hint for once and leave. Instead, he attempted to smile and said, "Quite a humourless world we live in. Can't imagine why."

"Eh, probably that Death Eater lot. I hear they want to outlaw laughter."

"Perhaps we should try laughing instead of duelling them then."

"You're behind the times, Moony. Prongs and I already use that strategy, and with great success." Sirius folded his arms behinds his head and watched Remus with a smug grin.

Remus was about to argue that their success was more mild than great, but a Leaky Cauldron job listing caught his eye. It was a night cleaning job, which meant that no one would want it but also that Remus would never be given it. He'd be found out as a werewolf more quickly than at any day job.

"What're these?" Sirius asked, dragging Remus' attention from the _Prophet._ Sirius rifled through the stack of declination and dismissal papers. Answering his own question, he said, "Let's put them in the fireplace tonight."

"I need to keep them," Remus said, grabbing them from the floor and snatching the pieces Sirius held, "so I never apply to a place that's already made it clear I'm not welcomed."

"Why? To convenience _them_?" Sirius grabbed the first few pages from the top, crumbling them up in his fist. "I say you send them a thousand applications each week!"

"Which I'm _sure_ would convince them to hire me," Remus said, taking back the pages and shoving the whole pile into the drawer of his nightstand.

Sirius shook his head. "No, but it'd annoy the hell out of them." Remus glared at him and struggled to close the drawer. "Fine, fine," Sirius said, lounging back on the bed again. "We'll probably all be dead in a year, so I guess it doesn't really matter." The drawer snapped shut, a few wrinkled pages flying to the ground.

"You really believe that?" Remus asked, his heart stopped in his chest.

"I mean, we're in the middle of a war," Sirius said, staring up at the ceiling.

"A war we're winning."

Sirius shrugged. "Just saying, it could happen."

Remus stared at Sirius, whose grey eyes kept looking up. It had been so long since the death of Orion and Regulus Black that Remus had almost forgotten about the day it happened—how Sirius had clung to him and rubbed his streaming eyes into his robes. They had all experienced loss—just last month, it had been Marlene and her family—but nothing compared to losing a family member, especially one he'd claimed to despise for so long but obviously still loved.

"Besides," Sirius said, brushing off the melancholy mood, "no job means you can spend all your time helping the Order. Nothing more important than that."

"I suppose," Remus said, still eyeing Sirius. He sat up quickly and gave Remus a bewildered look.

"You suppose?" he asked, a dangerous glint in his eyes.

"What I mean is that, yes, winning the war is our most important task right now, but I have to think practically too." Remus took the _Prophet_ from the nightstand again and gestured towards the job adds. "Unlike you and James, I don't have a Gringotts vault full of galleons to rely on."

Sirius growled in annoyance as he stood from the bed and snatched the paper out of Remus' hand. "You'd have two vaults if you'd just accept that James and I want to share."

"I don't accept it because you'd despise me for taking all of your money."

"Merlin, Moony. First off, you wouldn't take all of our money. And secondly," Sirius said, clapping both hands on Remus' shoulders, "if the past nine years haven't clued you in, let me be the first to inform you that, despite your monthly tail and bookishness, we _like_ you. _I_ like you."

Sirius' hands felt heavier on Remus' shoulders as if his words were weighing them down. Those grey eyes stared down into Remus' with more intensity than Remus was comfortable with. Still, if fighting about money would only drive Sirius away, Remus would rather accept it than lose him. "All right. No more job hunting until we win this war."

 _._

 _And I will wait_

 _I will wait for you_

 _._

Sirius paced the length of St Mungo's waiting room, his shaking hands raking through his now long and shaggy hair. The war seemed more and more impossible to win each day. First, it was Marlene and her family then Edgar Bones and his family, and now Benjy? Their numbers were falling along with their trust of each other.

As he glanced around the room, he couldn't help but wonder if he could trust anyone there. James and Peter, of course, were excluded, but Caradoc, Emmeline, and Frank—even Moody—seemed more and more suspicious each day. And Remus… well, Sirius couldn't begin to understand how he felt towards his old friend.

Ever since their talk a fortnight ago, Remus dedicated all of his time to the Order, hardly spending any time at home. Sirius didn't know _where_ he was most days, and even though it was his idea in the first place, he wanted Remus back to his old self. It made it easier to dismiss him as a spy.

And there _was_ a spy, no doubt. This ambush on the Death Eaters had been planned over three days, but once inside the hideout, the Order was no longer doing the ambushing. They were lucky to have made it out with only Benjy in a hospital bed. Somehow, the Death Eaters had known they were coming, and the only people who knew they were going were sitting in this room.

Sure, he should probably just _ask_ Remus where he had been the previous night and why he'd been out so late the night before a mission, but he would know exactly what question Sirius was really asking. Merlin, he couldn't believe he was actually thinking that! Remus, a spy? It didn't make any sense, at least not more so than Caradoc, Emmeline, or Frank. Still, the not knowing was killing him.

"I can't stay here anymore," he said, halting his pacing in front of the group. "I'm going mad."

"Same here," James said before anyone else could get a comment in. "Lily will want to know all of us made it back safely."

"Not all of us," Moody grumbled.

"And the rest of us sitting around here won't help Benjy," Remus said, standing with James. "We might as well get some rest while we can."

"I'll stay," Frank volunteered, "and keep everyone updated."

Moody grunted in affirmation, dismissing everyone from their vigil. There were a few murmured reassurances that they all had done their best today, no one mentioning that any one of them could secretly be working for the other side. Sirius Disapparated before those lies ended, hoping to make it back to his room before Remus got there, but he popped into the living room a few seconds after Sirius.

The tentative smile that Remus gave him was too much.

"I'm going to ask you something, Moony, but you have to promise not to hate me for asking."

Remus' face fell, the scar along his cheek straightening into a line. "You think there's a spy in the Order, too?"

Sirius clenched his jaw. Was this normal Remus intuition or did that answer come so fast because he was the spy? "I do," he said in a tight voice.

Remus studied him for a moment, figuring out Sirius' thoughts as if he was reading his mind. "You don't… you can't think it's me."

"Of course not!" Sirius didn't care that that was exactly what he was thinking, but his mixed feelings were won over by the betrayed look on Remus' face. What was he doing? Was he really accusing one of his closest friends and the man he was pretty sure he fancied of being a Death Eater?

"Then what did you want to ask me?" Remus asked in a curious tone, not catching Sirius' lie until the latter remained silent for too long. Remus took a step forward in the most confrontational move Sirius had ever seen from him. He couldn't remember a time when Remus had purposefully put himself so close to Sirius that their chests nearly touched. "What did you want to ask me?" Remus repeated.

Sirius was too bewildered to answer the question, not wanting to admit he had been about to accuse Remus of being a spy but unable to come up with an alternative answer with Remus so close. All he could think about was that night three months ago—his forehead pressed against Remus' stomach—and all the dreams and imaginings that always started with them standing that close until…

He grabbed Remus by the shoulders and kissed him like he had wanted to for the past three months.

Remus' mouth froze in shock before responding with gentle, hesitant movements that clashed with Sirius' rough and desperate lips in a blissful dissonance. His hands slid across Remus' neck and into his hair, grabbing and pulling, while Remus' hands brushed against Sirius' middle before holding on to his open leather jacket.

"This," Sirius said in the few seconds that they're mouth separated. "I wanted…to ask you…this."

.

 _So break my step_

 _And relent_

 _You forgave and I won't forget_

 _._

"The two of you are absolute idiots," Lily said, rubbing a bright orange paste into the fresh burns on James' shoulder. He hissed and moaned into the cushions of the sofa with her every movement, but Lily talked over them. "I can't believe you two thought it was a good idea to go there alone. Actually, no, what I can't believe is that you two managed to make it out of there alive."

Remus agreed but kept his mouth shut as he continued spreading the same burn-healing paste across Sirius' back. Sirius sat backwards on a kitchen chair, his neck—visible now that he'd allowed Remus to trim his unruly hair—tightened each time Remus touched the warm wounds, but he did far less complaining than James.

"And to think," Lily continued, her movements growing rougher and less cautious, "I thought our circumstances would finally snuff out that recklessness in you." She pressed heavily against James' raw, red skin with her next stroke.

"Ow, watch it, woman!" James shouted, flinching his shoulder away from her touch.

Lily's green eyes blazed in a dangerous glare. "Would you care to do this yourself?" James sighed and motioned for her to continue, snatching the sofa pillow and burying his head beneath it. "Such a baby," Lily muttered.

"Good training, though," Sirius said, through clenched teeth.

A heartbeat later, the room froze. James went quiet, and Lily stilled. Remus' goo covered fingers paused. "Good training?" he asked, eyeing Lily who now looked at the ground guiltily.

"I suppose now's as good a time as any," she said, wiping her orange fingers into a towel. She looked up at Remus with a fragile smile. "I'm pregnant."

The happiness of that statement was muffled against the stiff uneasiness of the three of them. Remus tried to push those feelings away and put on a smile. "That's wonderful," he said, stepping past Sirius to give Lily a one-armed hug, holding his pasty hand away from her. "Congratulations."

Lily muttered a 'thank you' and returned to painting James' shoulder orange while James held out a thumbs up. Remus ignored the tension in the room, letting the subject drop and going back to tending to Sirius' back, but an awkward silence fell over them that was only interrupted by James' grumblings.

Remus tried not to think about what all the hesitation was about. It could have been something as innocent as James and Lily not wanting to announce the pregnancy at such an early stage—a reasonable concern in the stressful times—but the silence felt less like they were concerned for the baby and more like they were concerned about _him_.

The rumours of a spy in the Order had grown worse since Benjy died. Nearly everyone was in hiding, not just from the Death Eaters but from each other as well. The Order was falling apart with no one willing to go on missions with each other, especially Remus. Actually, he could say very little about what the Order was doing since, over the past fortnight, he'd been completely cut off from their communications. He couldn't count all of the times Sirius left without saying exactly where he was going or James dropped by to reassure Remus he knew just as little about what was happening with the Order as he did. Remus knew a lie when he heard one.

"Thank you for letting us crash your place, Remus," Lily said, dapping at the last of James' burns, "but it's getting late."

Remus nodded, not even bothering to point out that it was Sirius who paid the rent each month, not him. Lily helped James up, careful not to brush any of his left side against the sofa. "See you, Prongs," Sirius said, slapping a hand right on his orange-crusted shoulder.

James let out a gasp with a mouth so wide it looked like a silent scream and fell to his knees. "You'll pay for that someday, Padfoot," he said in a hoarse voice that sounded like he'd just chugged an entire bottle of firewhisky.

"We'll see you both soon," Lily said, ignoring the two and giving Remus a tight hug that he had not been expecting. "Goodbye, Remus." It felt like she was saying goodbye forever.

After James and Lily disappeared into the fireplace, Remus went to the sink to rinse the dried paste from his hands. Sirius eased himself out of the chair, not straining his back at all. "It should only take an hour or so to heal," Remus said. "Then I'd suggest a shower and an early night."

"Yessir, healer sir," Sirius said with a mock salute. He summoned a glass from the cupboard and poured out water from his wand. The unnecessary magic poked at Remus' nerves, especially as Sirius set the glass down beside the sink after draining it.

"I suggest you join me," Sirius said with a wink. "To watch my back, of course."

"You need to rest," Remus said, turning off the water with such force that the faucet squeaked. "And I've got an early morning tomorrow."

"Really?" Sirius attempted to casually lean against the counter but jumped back when the edge grazed his back. "What for?"

Remus dried his hands on a towel, hesitating long enough to turn away from Sirius before saying, "Work."

He could feel the temperature in the room rise. "What happened to dedicating yourself to the Order?" Sirius asked in a terse voice.

"It's not like that takes a lot of time anymore," Remus said. "I need something to do besides sitting around here waiting for the rumours about me to get worse."

"Ignorant gossipers gossip, who cares?"

"I do." Remus tossed the towel on the counter. "Especially when it's my friends who are gossiping." He stared hard at Sirius, not allowing him to weasel himself out with a lie this time.

Sirius glanced towards the fireplace, perhaps his thoughts going out to Lily and James. "We're losing this war, Moony," he said in a low voice. "Whoever this spy is, they've destroyed the Order. There's barely anything left. People are scared."

"I'm used to people being scared of me," Remus said, picking up the towel and folding it into a neat square, "but never for a reason so unjustified."

Sirius tapped his fingers against the counter, then reached over to take Remus' hand. "Can we not fight tonight?"

Remus stared at their fingers, a large part of him wanting to agree and let this small glow of happiness last a little longer in this dark world, but a tiny yet strong part told him to push like he never had before. He'd been a good friend and a good lover for long enough now; he had to let himself push and see if Sirius came back. "You can't say it can you?"

"Say what?"

"That you trust me." Remus gripped Sirius' hand, praying that his intuition was wrong this time. "That you don't have any doubt that I'm not the spy."

"I don't think it's you."

"Without a doubt?"

Sirius hesitated, his perfect aristocratic features scrunching in a grimace. "I don't think you're the spy, isn't that enough?"

"But there's a doubt." Remus let go of his hold as Sirius' tightened.

"I've been wrong about people before," he said, holding Remus' hand against the counter so he couldn't escape. "I trusted my brother would be able to take care of himself and look what happened. I can be wrong about things, I know that."

Remus pulled his hand out from beneath Sirius' and braced himself against the counter. "We both knew this whole thing was only ephemeral."

"Ack, Moony, speak English."

"None of this was going to last." He slammed his hand on the counter in frustration. "This war, the Order, us… We're at a time where things don't last forever." He pushed away from the counter and started towards the hall. "I found a place that I can afford," he added over his shoulder. "I'll be out of your hair soon."

Remus stood in the mouth of the hall, waiting for the outburst, but when nothing came, he took a step forward. Then Sirius barked a dark laugh. "So we're all going to be dead in a year, maybe a month, and you want to lock yourself away in some rotting shack somewhere? And you wonder why people think you're the spy."

The words stung, but Remus kept walking to his room, shutting the door behind him. He pulled his suitcase from under his bed and threw a few things in. He would never be able to look Sirius in the eye again, let alone live with him or kiss him or fall into bed with him. Remus had no other options but to leave, to isolate himself. If Sirius couldn't trust him, how could he expect anyone else to?

 _._

 _Know what we've seen_

 _And him with less_

 _Now in some way shake the excess_

 _._

It had been two years. A whole, Remus-less year followed by another. Sirius barely remembered any of it. His only recollection of the past months were the marks across his body from his solo excursions into Death Eater nests.

Every day he battled with the urge to track Remus down and apologise, but that tinge of a doubt kept Sirius at home. Did he really think that Remus could be the spy? There had to be a part of him that thought so, or else he would have been able to say, without a doubt, he trusted Remus that day and kept him from leaving in the first place.

The Order grew more scattered every day, and now they were being picked off like stray sheep. It was Dorcas last month, the Prewett brothers the month before that. Any one of them could be next. Sirius hadn't seen or heard from any of them in months besides James and Lily, but visiting them in Godric's Hallow was more painful than staying in his own house. No matter where he went, it was a prison. And seeing baby Harry tore into Sirius' heart. How were any of them supposed to escape from Voldemort when the whole Wizarding World was bending to his will and his sights were set on that baby. Sirius had had the opportunity to be Harry's sole protector, his Secret-Keeper, then gave the responsibility to Peter. If only Remus knew that Sirius doubted himself too.

Sirius paced around his living room, desperate to do something. All of these thoughts were driving him mad. He had gone round to Godric's Hallow the previous night and didn't think either James or Lily would appreciate him barging in again, but he had a sudden desperate need to see Harry. There had been no more than the usual attempts on Sirius' life, which should have been a good thing, but Sirius no longer trusted good things. Perhaps the Death Eater's were smarter than they looked; maybe they had figured out that Sirius was far too obvious a Secret-Keeper. It was irrational, but for weeks now Sirius had been waiting for a horde of Death Eaters to show up at his door, demanding to know where Harry Potter was, and the fact that it hadn't happened yet worried him.

Before the sunset, Sirius had compromised with himself and rode his motorbike towards Peter's hiding place. Checking on Peter would not suffice for seeing Harry, but Sirius needed some blindly optimistic reassurances.

He sputtered into the gravel drive of an abandoned church that had long ago been boarded up. Only a single pane of stained glass remained intact, and Sirius tapped the saint with his wand. The boards over the side door shimmered away, revealing a gaping hole that boarded itself back up as soon as Sirius passed through.

"Wormy?" Sirius called, his voice echoing through the high ceilings. He lit his wand, but it only illuminated the usual sights: a ratty sofa, a rusty kitchenette, and a thick curtain that separated the space in two. Sirius rushed forward and pulled back the curtain, but the makeshift bedroom looked like it always did. Where the hell was Peter?

Could he…? No, no way. Sirius was being irrational and panicky. It was fine, everything was fine. He just had to get to Godric's Hallow and hold his grandson and the night would be fine.

 _._

 _Cause I will wait_

 _I will wait for you_

 _._

Alone. That was all that Remus was. Three friends dead, one friend a killer, and a baby who he'd only met once far away in Surrey.

How had it been Sirius all along? Sirius, who dared to accuse Remus of being a spy? Sirius, who vowed to do all he could to keep Harry safe? Sirius, who killed more Death Eaters than even Alastor Moody?

Nothing made sense. The war was over, the waiting for a brighter day done, and nothing made sense.

Remus had loved a spy and a murderer. He was no better.

 _._

 _Now I'll be bold_

 _As well as strong_

 _And use my head alongside my heart_

 _._

Sirius Black was alive again, and right back where he had been when he died: needing to talk to Remus.

It took a few months in the Caribbean, but Sirius had finally gotten himself back to England and in front of Remus' decrepit shack in Yorkshire. He wasn't sure if it was brave or stupid to show up at an ex-lover's home when he didn't even know Sirius was back in the country or whether he still held resentment towards Sirius, but he couldn't stand to be in England again and not confront Remus.

He knocked on the door, surprised the thing didn't fall off its single hinge as he did so. He tucked his hands into his pockets, thinking of what he would do if Remus didn't answer. Remus probably wouldn't appreciate coming home from whatever degrading job he'd found now to find Sirius had broken into his home.

The door creaked open to Remus standing in his pyjamas. Sirius cursed himself for not having thought to check the lunar calendar. "Sirius?" he asked, his droopy eyes widening in surprise.

"I'm pretty sure that's who I am," Sirius said, padding his clothes as if he wasn't sure. "Haven't taken any Polyjuice potion lately."

Remus shook his head, not gracing Sirius' joke with a comment, and stepped back to let Sirius in. "I'll make us some tea," he said, leaving Sirius in the doorway as he went to what looked like could've been a kitchen but was actually a wall of cabinets surrounding a fireplace. Remus filled a gleaming teapot —Sirius reckoned it was a gift—with his wand and hung it on a wire above the fire.

"Dumbledore didn't mention you had a fireplace," Sirius said, picking his way around the piles of books to sit on a patchy armchair. "Could've saved me a trip on Beaky."

"You rode Witherwings here?" Remus made a point of saying the hippogriff's cover name and glanced out a broken window.

"He's out flying around somewhere now."

"Where he can be spotted by anyone." Remus shook his head but dropped the argument and returned to gathering a pair of mugs. "And the fireplace isn't connected to the Floo Network."

"Ah." Sirius gazed around the shack, looking for something else to talk about. He really should have come in with something prepared instead of flying here on a whim.

The tea kettle whistled, and a moment later, Remus handed Sirius a steaming mug. He couldn't even muster up the bollocks to say 'thank you'. Remus took a seat in the opposite armchair and watched Sirius contemplate his tea. "You could use a haircut," Remus said.

Sirius chuckled. "You said that to me last time we saw each other."

"It's still true."

"It was quite the hit down on the island."

"I'm sure."

Sirius couldn't tell if Remus was being terse with him or if he himself was just being sensitive. After all, Remus had every right to be royally pissed at him. Sirius had forced him into a relationship then turned around and told him he suspected Remus was a spy. It was a miracle he had even let Sirius into his house.

"So what brings you here?" Remus asked, sipping his tea.

"Harry's gotten himself into trouble again," Sirius said with a proud smile. "I thought I should be here to cheer him on in that tournament."

Remus pressed his lips together, a worried expression clouding his face. "Yes, that makes sense."

Sirius waited a moment to see if Remus would call him out on avoiding the question, but when he didn't, Sirius sighed. "Why don't you say that you didn't mean England?"

Remus looked up from his mug, the steam obscuring his muddy eyes. "You know I didn't mean England."

Sirius set his mug on the ground and leant his elbows on his knees. He supposed that was as good an opportunity as he was going to get. "I'm sorry I thought the spy could've been you."

"I thought you were a criminal and a murderer for twelve years," Remus said with a shrug. "I think we're even."

Sirius barked out a loud laugh. "You could say that again." He wiggled a shrunken flask from his pocket and tapped it with his wand so it popped back to its regular size. "I say we get the celebration we never got after the war," he said, vanishing his tea and pouring a generous amount of firewhisky into the mug. Then he lifted the flask in a cheering motion towards Remus. "To old friendships, may they always carry on."

Remus smiled, and the happy glow lightened his entire face. The dark circles under his eyes and the scar across his cheek faded. He clasped a hand around the flask, trapping Sirius' fingers there as he lifted the flask a centimetre higher. With a youthful twinkle in his tired eyes, he said, "To old friends and new beginnings."

 _._

 _So take my flesh_

 _And fix my eyes_

 _A tethered mind free from the lies_

 _._

"You know, I can see why my cousin fancies you," Sirius said from his bed, watching Remus dress on the other side of the room.

"Out of all your cousins, I can't begin to pick one whom I hope you are talking about," Remus said as he finished buttoning his shirt.

"Eh, you know what I mean, whatever she is. Second cousin, twice removed, whichever."

Remus chuckled. "I believe it's first cousin once removed." He sat with a thump on top of the chest at the end of the bed, then summoned his shoes from wherever he had left them in Grimmauld Place. "And she's not in love with me."

"No, I'm the one who's in love with you."

Sirius said the words so casually, but Remus felt his face burn in a blush. It had been nearly two years since Sirius had shown up at his cottage in Yorkshire and nearly one year since he'd convinced Remus to abandon that shack and stay with him in Grimmauld Place, but even in all that time, saying those words had been difficult for Remus. Even with Sirius muttering that phrase three or four times a day, Remus could count on his fingers how many times he'd said it back and he'd never said it first. He could only use the excuse that Sirius was simply a more confident and affectionate person for so long before he realised that he was just plain scared of commitment. Here there were again, in the middle of a brewing war that resembled the one that had taken James and Lily. How could they hope to think of things like love and forever with _that_ hanging over their heads?

"But she does fancy you," Sirius continued, not noticing Remus' forlorn expression as he caught the shoes that flew through the door. "All I hear from her lately is how worried she is about these trips that you go on and how closed off you are from everyone and how she could help if you only gave her the chance." His voice had turned mockingly high-pitched and sing-songy. "I might have to tell her your only type is me to shut her up."

"Tonks will grow up," Remus said, concentrating on slipping on his shoes. "She's young and naive and still likes the idea of fixing a broken soul. When she's older, she'll be thankful she never dated a werewolf."

"Don't be so hard on yourself, Moony." Sirius's voice was close, and Remus jumped as Sirius placed his chin on his shoulder. "I wouldn't call you a broken soul."

"That's because you're broken as well." The words were out before Remus could think, and he tensed as he felt Sirius' chin leave his shoulder.

Then Sirius' arms wrapped around Remus' chest and his scruffy chin rubbed against his temple as he kissed Remus' hair. "Maybe that's why we fit so well together."

Remus sunk back against Sirius, allowing himself to linger in the moment and forget about the upcoming war and the devastation that was sure to follow. He thought of how unfair it was that certain people could go through their whole lives without thinking about death and fighting and the end of the world as they know it, but he and Sirius had to face those circumstances twice. They deserved this one perfect moment.

"I should go," Remus said, not wanting to leave but knowing he had to. There were more important things than happiness at the moment.

"Where's Dumbledore sending you off this time?" Sirius asked, not releasing his hold on Remus just yet.

"Paris," Remus said, standing up and forcing Sirius to let go of him. "There's a rather large pack there that he hopes I reach before Greyback does."

"Still better than being stuck here." Sirius leant back on his elbows and kicked the bedpost with his big toe.

Remus hated seeing the sulking look on Sirius' face; it had been there for ages now. Every time that Remus left for another mission, Sirius grumbled about being in prison again, completely useless to the Order. Remus knew how that felt. Throughout the first war, he'd felt more like a danger than an asset.

"After all this is over and you're name has been cleared," Remus said, sitting at the edge of the bed by Sirius's feet, "we can go to Paris or any other place you like."

Sirius sat up, nearly knocking his forehead into Remus'. "You mean that?" he asked, his grey eyes as wide as a child's on Christmas. It was such a rare occasion that Remus allowed himself to think about the other side of the war, of what might happen if they miraculously won _again_ and survived _again,_ but it was worth it to see that look.

"Of course."

Sirius lurched forward and kissed Remus, his mouth moving with an earnest equal to that of their first. Despite his better judgment, Remus let Sirius pull him in deeper, his fingers running across Sirius' bare chest. Remus was on the verge of giving in and staying one more night when a bright silver glow flew into the room.

They broke apart to see Dumbledore's phoenix Patronus perched on the bedpost. It opened its beak, and its castor's voice sounded around the room. _"Harry is missing. Severus and I suspect he's gone to the Ministry to face Voldemort. All Order members, please come as soon as you can."_

They shared a worried look before leaping off the bed. Sirius grabbed clothes off the floor while Remus cast his own Patronus to let Dumbledore know they were both on their way. The misty canine had already disappeared out the window when Remus registered its changed shape. His wolf had become taller, leaner, and wiry with a long tongue dangling from its mouth as it ran.

"Moony! Remus!"

Remus shook himself out of the moment, turning to find Sirius dressed and holding his wand in position to Apparate. "Are you ready?"

"One last thing," Remus said, stepping forward and kissing Sirius one last time. "I love you."

"Great, can we go?" Sirius barely waited for Remus to nod before turning and disappearing with a pop.

 _._

 _And I'll kneel down_

 _Wait for now_

 _I'll kneel down_

 _Know my ground_

 _._

Sirius was not ready to die, but as the soft curtain wrapped around his body, he knew what he wanted didn't matter anymore.

Remus. Harry. The two most important people in his life. They were right there.

Then they were gone.

 _._

 _Raise my hands_

 _Paint my spirit gold_

 _And bow my head_

 _Keep my heart slow_

 _._

Remus's world was green as his body fell through the air. He never felt the impact of his head hitting the muddy ground. By then, his world had turned white.

"Took you long enough," a voice said from somewhere in the gleam. A dark shadow appeared in front of him, dimming the light into a soft gold, like the sun at midday.

"Sirius?"

"Hello, Moony. You've kept me waiting."

 _._

 _Cause I will wait_

 _I will wait for you_

 _._

* * *

 **End Notes:** Hope that all Wolfstar lovers liked this fic. I've never written a First War story before and I know that my timeline is off a bit (Regulus died later in the war than is implied here), but hopefully it was still enjoyable. Please let me know what you think in a review! :)


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